


May Day

by krazykitkat



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazykitkat/pseuds/krazykitkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year on, it's time for CJ to deal with her demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May Day

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE: May Day  
> AUTHOR: Kat/krazykitkat  
> RATING: PG (some sexual innuendo)  
> DISCLAIMER: The West Wing and its characters are the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and NBC. No Copyright Infringement is intended. I will put them back slightly disheveled.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was my first West Wing fic. Secondly, while this could be classified as CJ/D, my intention was to focus on CJ. After watching 'The Midterms', I was surprised that she didn't seem to have reacted to the shooting. Hence this story. Danny just ended up being the conduit. And lastly, while 'The Midterms' stated that the shooting was in August, I always felt it was in May (and I believe there is a line in another episode saying that). So I'm going with May, because 'May Day' sounds better than 'August Day', plus it has the added attraction of a double meaning.  
> THANKS: To my wonderful editor and friend, Kat. Thank you for your support and encouragement. Also to CretKid for post editing.  
> Written 2001.

She wasn't entirely sure how she ended up here. Maybe it was the only place she was in control, where she set and steered the agenda. Her seat of power, her dominion.

She needed to feel in control right now. Somehow, after haunting the silent corridors of the West Wing for the last hour, her journey had concluded here. Where it had started. One year ago. The press briefing before they left for Rosslyn.

Her fingertips lightly stroked the podium. She knew every gash and groove of her worn friend. Funny how an inanimate object was able to comfort her more than her companions of flesh and blood. This piece of wood asked nothing of her, its only purpose was to be her support. It showed her no pity or concern, put on no mask of pretense.

Today had been spent walking on eggshells. Not knowing what to say, whether individuals wanted to remember or forget. Hell, she didn't even know which way she leant.

She stepped off the stage and bent her long frame to sit on it. The only illumination was from the corridors and soft moonlight filtering through the swaying branches outside the windows on her left. Empty press chairs waltzed hesitantly back and forth with the shadows. The deep velvet silence wrapped its dark cloak around her.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Uninvited, the reel of that day began to play on the inside of her eyelids. She'd carefully avoided watching any footage of the event in the days that followed, but had been unable to escape it today. Every channel had prepared anniversary editions and played them ad nauseum. Weren't anniversaries supposed to be about pleasant events? Why did news producers feel the need to dwell -- One of only three words beginning with 'dw'...what were the other two?

Someone entered the room. Disturbed air molecules buffeted her, increasing in speed as the person drew closer, footsteps echoing in the abyss. A waft of distinctive cologne informed her of the identity of her visitor. She concentrated on his even breathing as he sat next to her, his thigh lightly brushing hers. He didn't say a word.

She broke the quiet. "There are three words in the English language that start with 'dw'. What are they?" She still had her eyes closed, but could picture the cocked eyebrow and quirky smile.

"Three words starting with 'dw'...dwarf,...ummmm..., dwindle." He paused. "Dwarf, dwindle, dwarf, dwindle. This is one of the President's trivia questions, isn't it?"

"How did you guess? Give up?" She challenged him, opening her eyes. That quirky smile was definitely present.

"Not yet. Do I get any clues?"

She grinned. "I thought your readers expected a little more. I'm sure they'd expect you to know this."

"Dweezil?"

"That's not even a name. It's child abuse."

"So, I guess we won't be naming our first son, Dweezil."

She punched him in the arm. "You can name *your* son anything you want. Just don't be surprised when he grows up to be a nasty little man who likes to dress up in furs and live in vats of flour."

He rubbed his arm. "Ow! No fair. And you really need to explain that last sentence to me."

"You give up?"

"It's dwell. Dwarf, dwindle, dwell." He placed his right hand over her left, which was stiffly clenching her knee. "You're dwelling."

She spread her fingers, capturing his between them and then closed their joined hands into a fist. "I'm dwelling on dwindling to a dwarf." She moved their hands to a more relaxed position on her thigh.

"I was wondering whether those three words could be used in a sentence."

"I don't remember a lot about that night." Her voice was a whisper, as she stared at her shoes.

Danny replied in a soothing tone, "Sometimes that happens."

She snorted. "Why remember when I can relive it watching CNN and Fox News and their one year retrospectives." Anger entered her voice. "Do they ever think about what that does to the survivors?"

He squeezed her hand. "How's Josh doing?"

"He's doing better than any of us. He was forced to deal with his demons," she answered hesitantly.

"The rest of you keep them hidden in your closets."

"Something like that."

He moved his left hand to her face and levered her chin upwards. She leant her cheek into his hand and looked directly into his eyes.

In a gentle, low voice, he offered his services. "I'm here for you, if you want to talk. Personally, I think you need to talk. It's time to exorcise those demons. You might even end up with some extra closet space."

"Or maybe we could just exercise them, so they're too tired to bother me."

"CJ."

She smiled sadly. "I know. You're right, Danny. But if I don't do it now, I'll just find other excuses to avoid it."

"Well, we're here, right now. Or do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Here's fine. Neutral territory. It's late, no one's likely to come in." She nodded and pulled her hand away from his, before standing. She strode to the press seats and sat facing him, putting a measurable distance between them. She leant forward with her elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her clenched hands. He mirrored her pose, bringing a slight grin to her lips.

She breathed in deeply, hoping the influx of air would flush out the moths currently performing the macarena on her stomach wall. The Moth Ball switched to a spirited tango instead.

"It's funny--"

"Funny ha-ha, or funny peculiar?"

"Funny peculiar, like you." She glared at him. "If you want me to talk, you're going to have to shut up."

He mimed zipping his mouth.

"Much better."

"And here I was, thinking you liked my open mouth." He raised his eyebrows.

"Only when I'm doing the opening." She watched him blush. Flirting with Danny was way too much fun, she'd missed it. "Now, keep it shut."

This time he locked it and tossed her the key.

She started again. "It's funny. I'm trying to forget something, an instant that I don't actually remember. If I don't remember it, did it ever happen? I know it happened. I've seen the results. But, how can I process it, deal with it, when I don't remember?" She saw the questions in his eyes. "No, that wasn't a rhetorical question, and, yes, you may answer." She threw him back the key.

"What do you remember?"

"The President's speech, smacking you in the head..."

He rubbed the spot, wincing in memory. "You have a good arm."

"I work with many stupid men."

"True."

He smiled. Another thing she missed. In the past year they'd spent a lot of time avoiding each other.

"After that?" he prompted.

"Not much. Flashes here and there. Walking out of the building, being pushed down. What I know and what is actually part of my memories are two different things. I know we were shot at and I know Sam was the one who pushed me down. But I don't remember it. I remember after, a paramedic checking my head. I picked up my things and as I got up, I saw the police car window was shot out." An involuntary shudder coursed through her body as she subconsciously stroked her neck. Danny was kneeling directly in front of her in an instant, pulling her hand away from her neck and holding both tightly. Her fears and terrors were reflected in his eyes.

She could barely continue, "If Sam hadn't been there..."

"Remind me to thank him," his voice cracked.

She struggled to keep the tears contained, her voice wavering. "Then Toby found Josh. He..." The dam overflowed.

Danny pulled her down onto the floor and into his arms. She buried her face in his neck and as the comforting cocoon enveloped her, began to sob. He gently rocked her, rubbing her back in rhythmic circles. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she felt her shoulder grow damp from his own silent tears.

The too long restrained sorrow and tension of that night was released. They comforted and soothed each other, the tears eventually slowing.

Danny rested his left hand on her cheek and she placed her right hand over it. She turned her head and kissed his palm. She felt the vibrations in his chest as he began to speak.

"This is what I wanted to do that night. I just wanted to hold you and make the world disappear."

She kept quiet and listened. He had his own demons to deal with.

"I was on the phone to the science editor about your peace pipe when I heard the shots. They wouldn't let us out of the building. All I could think of was, 'CJ can't be dead, she can't be'. Not the way things had been left between us. I couldn't get any information, except that the President and Zoey had been driven away from the scene within a minute. No one could tell me if you were okay. They ended up bringing the press buses around the back and drove us here. We got word that one of the senior staff had been hit and I was so terrified that it was you." His voice caught on a sob.

She sat up and looked into his tear-filled eyes. Gently wiping his cheeks, she pulled him towards her, resting his head on her chest. She kissed the top of his head and leant her cheek against it. She'd never thought of how it must have been for him, left in the dark. Those hours of waiting, not knowing. At least she'd been at the hospital and possessed some knowledge.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I didn't even think to let you know I was all right. I wasn't thinking a hell of a lot of anything."

"Don't be sorry. I know how much pressure you were under." He looked up at her and stroked her cheek. "You've never looked so gorgeous as when I saw you at that first press conference."

She punched him in the arm.

"Ow! What is it with you hitting me?" He rubbed his arm as he pushed himself to a more upright position.

"I looked horrible and I was totally out of it. I have no recollection of it, thank God, but I've seen the tape."

"You were beautiful and amazing." He moved in and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "No one else could have handled it the way you did."

She chuckled. "You're smooth." She leant her forehead against his. "And I only hit the people I like."

"So, what, you kiss your enemies?"

"I seem to recall kissing you a couple of times."

"I think my memory needs refreshing."

"You're impossible." CJ shook her head.

Danny arched his eyebrows up and down in a Groucho Marx impersonation. "But undeniably irresistible."

She grabbed his tie and pulled his lips into contact with hers. "One refresher course coming up," she whispered.

"I hope it's not the only thing coming up."

"Don't push your luck, buddy."

"I'll take whatev--"

She cut him off as she moved her lips against his. Definitely a good way to shut him up. Though her actions would be a little hard to explain during a press briefing. Tongues tasted and lips tangoed as bodies yearned to entwine. She had forgotten how good this felt with him, how he made her body come alive. She hadn't been joking when she'd told Josh that she could pass a class in abstinence. She would still have no problems. But, if she followed this through, she could bump that grade down to a fail. They wouldn't make it back to either of their apartments and the press room was just a little too public. Could they make it to her office?

A passionate whimper broke the spell. Damn the thinking! But she couldn't ignore it once it started. She gently untangled limbs and lips, eliciting a groan from Danny.

"Your logic centre just kicked in, didn't it?" he breathed heavily. Danny looked as flushed and aroused as she felt.

"Yeah."

"Could we please have it lobotomized?"

"It's the only thing keeping us out of trouble and in our jobs." She stood and offered her hand to help him up.

He blushed as he declined her assistance. "I just need to sit here for a few minutes." She grinned. "Don't laugh. This is what you do to me."

"You know, it was much easier when I was mad at you."

"Well, I don't think Mandy left any other memos lying around."

She snapped her fingers. "Damn."

"And I'm not really fond of you yelling at me."

"I didn't yell at you." She waggled her finger at him.

"'Kay. Screamed at, then." He continued on before she could reply. "Though I did wonder whether kissing you would stop you."

"Why didn't you try?"

Danny stood and walked over to her, placing his hands on her hips. His warm breath caressed her face. "Carol kept on interrupting." CJ laughed. "I swear that woman has a passion radar gun fixed on me. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she walked through that door right now." He quickly kissed her on the lips and turned to look at the door. "She's falling down on the job."

"You do know you're a nut, don't you?"

"Yeah, but a nut you love."

She stiffened and pulled away. She bit her lip as she saw the look of confusion turn to sadness on Danny's face.

"I shouldn't have said the 'L' word."

"I really should go." CJ headed towards the exit.

He grabbed her arm. "Don't. The exorcism isn't over yet."

"I never should have started kissing you. It was a mistake." She extracted her arm from his grip and took several steps back. "I can't think properly when you touch me," she whispered, raising her arms to ward off his advance. One hand went to her neck and began rubbing.

"You do that a lot."

"What?"

He pointed at her neck. "It's become a nervous habit since that night. I can always tell when you're upset or worried."

"I don't even notice." She pulled her hand away and clenched both into fists.

"You need to see someone, CJ. Did you people have any form of counseling?"

She studied the carpet. "Josh did."

"Yeah. When it was nearly too late. Apart from right now, have you reacted in any way?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Toby went off on a rant for months, doing his best to circumvent the First Amendment. That's how he reacted. What did you do?"

Her brow furrowed. "I did my job."

"Exactly."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Daniel? I did what had to be done. I came back here to feed the clamouring hoards. And let me tell you, you people have terrible table manners." Her voice was rising in both volume and pitch, and a knot had just implanted itself between her shoulder blades. "If I remember correctly you took several bites yourself over the Twenty-fifth. I wanted to be at the hospital with my friends. I wanted to be there for Josh and the President. But, no. I had to come back to give you vultures your taste of blood." She poked him hard in the chest, but he stood his ground. "What did you expect me to do? Start crying? I can see the headlines. 'Press Secretary weak and ineffectual; can't cope in crisis.' Well you can go to hell. I did my job." She punctuated the last four words with a jab.

"You might just want to see me as one of the vultures, but Josh and the President are my friends too. You didn't have the monopoly on worrying and caring about them. But I also had my job to do. If you so loathe dealing with the press, what are you doing here?" He gestured to the room.

CJ faced Danny, neither moving, neither wanting to capitulate. She finally gave in, turning to thump the podium. Closing her eyes, she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." His hands found the place on her back where the local Boy Scouts troop were earning their badges in square knots. "You are tight."

She arched back into the massage, the magic fingers generating tingles across her nerve endings. "I bet you say that to all the girls." His breath on the back of her neck sent the tingles off in a mad frenzy, racing towards the regions of her body she had only regained control of a short time ago. She needed to put a stop to this -- what was that? Either the West Wing had adopted a feline, or one of them had just purred. From the reaction of the man behind her, she got the distinct impression it was her. Must stop this right now! Only cats and cars were allowed to purr. Cats rubbed against you, cars have leather and back seats...could abstinence make you crazy? How else could she explain wanting to strangle Danny one second and shove him up against a wall and have her wicked way with him the next? Well, she knew one thing for sure. Abstinence makes you horny.

That thought spawned a silent giggle, which quickly multiplied until her body began to shake.

"CJ. Are you all right?" Danny asked in a worried tone.

She couldn't answer, her eyes were starting to weep from the effort of keeping the laughter contained. He turned her around to face him.

He saw the tears. "What's wrong, CJ?"

The safety valve blew and the laughter escaped. Through the torrent she saw Danny's expression change from worry to confusion to a small measure of hurt.

"You know, women have never laughed during my massages. They usually wait till they see me naked," he pouted.

Another eruption resulted. Like all men, Danny needed his ego stroked. Though she'd much rather be stroking other parts of him. Down girl! This was not helping. Calm down.

She wiped her eyes and brought the laughter under control. "I'm sorry."

"It's not the first time you've laughed at me. You did when I gave you Gail."

"Yeah. I did, didn't I. But, if I remember correctly, I also did this." She leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled. "That you did. Feel better?"

"Yeah." The laughter had helped release some of the tension. She could release more by intimate means, but that was out of the question.

"Good."

"Can I go now?"

"No."

CJ emitted a groan. "What do you want from me, Danny?" She saw the answering glint in his eye. "Apart from that."

"An answer."

"Are we back to that again?" She rolled her eyes.

Danny crossed his arms. "What did you do? How did you react?"

"I've already answered. My job." She mimicked his defensive stance. "What the hell do you want me to say?"

"You remember Lowell Lydell?"

"Well, that's the type of stupid question I'd expect from a reporter."

"You remember how you reacted?"

CJ raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway. Don't let me spoil your fun."

"You went off on a rant on hate crimes. Everyone told you to slow down, but you didn't. You pushed it. You even tried to convince me by asking me out on a date--"

"Business dinner," she interrupted.

"Whatever. You were instrumental in the development of the Hate Crimes Bill."

"Are we in the vicinity of a point here?"

Danny stood in front of her and clasped her shoulders. In a lower voice, he replied, "The point is you reacted. But you've been nowhere on this. Some bigoted bastards shoot at your friends, you all could have died. If Sam hadn't pulled you down, you would have died. And all because some idiots don't like the fact that two kids are in love. You said you don't know how to process it. You can't put this behind you until you react. You've been stalled in the first stages of grief for a year."

"So, you're a psychologist now?" She tried to move away from him, but he just tightened his grip.

"I think you need to see someone, before this tears you apart. The land of denial may be comforting, but you can't stay there forever."

"You think I'm in denial? I accepted things a long time ago. I'm fine," she stated through clenched teeth.

He shook his head. "You are not fine. Sure, you're doing your job competently. But your fire, your passion, they're gone. The woman who tried so hard to convince everyone that we should legislate what people think. Where is she? Why wasn't she helping Toby? You're nowhere."

"I've had enough of this." She struggled to free herself. "Let go of me."

"No. Not until you deal with this."

"I don't need Amateur Psychology Hour. Let go of me, or I'll...," she trailed off.

"Or you'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. At least it's a reaction." The expression in his eyes backed his words, daring her to do it. "What's stopping you from reacting? Is it too close to home?"

"Oh, no. My friends being shot at isn't too close to home," she replied sarcastically.

"That isn't what I meant."

"Then, what do you mean? I'm not a smart reporter like yourself. I need things spelled out." Watching him intently, it dawned on her. She snorted. "You have got to be kidding, Daniel. You think this is about us?" She ended the sentence on an upward inflection.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm just trying to understand." He was frustratingly calm.

"You really are full of yourself. It's got nothing to do with us. Apart from the fact there is no us. How dare you even compare what Zoey and Charlie went through to us. Charlie was shot at because of the difference in their skin colour." His hold was beginning to spark feelings of panic within her.

"And we're having our jobs held over our heads because you're a press secretary and I'm a reporter. What happened to Zoey and Charlie is as bad as it gets. But it's the same basic underlying principle. Two people who -- I'm going to say it, CJ -- who love each other, being kept apart because of who they are."

She laughed hysterically, sounding foreign even to her own ears. "So, Romeo. Should I supply the poison? What the hell makes you think I love you," she hissed.

Her attempt to initiate a reaction from him failed. He was a composed parent trying to calm a frenetic child. "You can deny it all you want, CJ. But there is something between us. I'm not going away."

"There's something between us because you won't let go of me. HANDS OFF!" Her breathing was becoming increasingly rapid, tendrils of panic squeezing around her heart. Sweat beaded on her forehead as her stomach dictated its notice of intent to vacate the premises. She was pulled down and smothered. Explosions echoed in her ears, her head throbbed. She had to get out of here, find safety, but she was held in place. She had to break free, fight, strike out. Her fist connected with something, pain rippling up her arm. It didn't matter, she could move, flee.

She stumbled haphazardly for several steps before meeting a wall. Latching onto it, she struggled to breathe as rage mingled with despair. Hurt and grief, anger and impotence surging through her. She leant her head against the cool plaster and hammered her right fist into it. The jarring pain deadened the panic, the physical easier to handle than the emotional. Thump, breathe, thump, breathe, thu-

A hand enclosed hers, interrupting the rhythm. An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her away from the wall and back into a warm body. The panic resurfaced for a moment, but dissipated as a low voice soothed her.

"Calm down, CJ. It's okay. Breathe deeply. You're safe."

He brought her injured hand back against her body so he could wrap both his arms around her. She could feel butterfly kisses on her hair and neck.

"You're safe, CJ. I won't let anyone hurt you." The words vibrated through her body.

"What's the point?" Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

He whispered, "The point of what?"

"Of caring. Of trying to do what's right. It doesn't stop them. They still hate." She lost the ability to form coherent sentences as the tears broke through. Her body shuddered and her knees buckled.

Danny gently eased her to the floor, shifting her sidewards to sit across his lap. As before he rocked her, weaving a mantle of safety around them.

"Let it all out, CJ."

She never thought it was possible to cry so much. Definitely crying a river, though she'd probably moved onto an ocean by now. She'd better stop before she beat global warming in submerging several low-lying islands.

He handed her a handkerchief to wipe her face. He gently kissed her right hand. From the stings she suspected she'd broken some skin. She moved that hand to stroke his cheek, but he shied away from her touch. Confused, she shifted so she could look at him. The sight elicited a gasp from her.

"Oh God, Danny. I'm so sorry."

His left eye was a work in progress of blue and red. Some swelling was already evident.

"I'll go and get some ice." She tried to rise, but he pulled her back down to straddle him.

"Stay here. It's okay. I've had worse." At her questioning glance he continued. "Well, actually I haven't. You have a mean right hook."

She feathered kisses over his bruises, her mark. She placed the last kiss on the ridge of his nose between his eyes, before resting her forehead against his. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Don't be. You got some of that anger and pain out."

"It's just...after Lowell Lydell...I thought we were doing something good with the Hate Crimes Bill. Then this happened. I'm so stupidly naïve sometimes."

Danny placed his hands on either side of her face and moved her head back slightly. "Don't ever say that. You aren't stupid. And if naiveté means idealism and passion, I wish there was more of it. Those are the qualities that make you the beautiful, amazing, loving person you are. If you let them destroy that, they've won."

She graced him with a weak smile. "I just get so tired, trying to swim against the tide."

"The tide is changing, CJ. Even a cynical old journalist like me can feel it. You're doing good. There's always going to be bastards and bigots. But if you can get the rest of the people to care, to think, if you can raise the level of public debate, you're making a difference. You're doing good."

She silently mouthed, "Thank you."

"I wanted to hold you that night." He pulled her back into his arms, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. "But I was scared that you would crumble if I touched you."

"I would have. I was only just holding it together."

"And then things just fell apart between us."

There really wasn't anything she could say to that. Their relationship existed in limbo land. And unless one of them changed jobs, they were going to end up with horrendous chiropractic bills.

"I've missed you. Just being your friend."

"Annoying me," she laughed.

"Oh, definitely." His tone turned serious again. "Have you had other panic attacks like that?"

"No."

"CJ?"

She pulled her head off his shoulder. "Not as bad. When I'm out in crowds, sometimes I feel claustrophobic. And sometimes, for no reason, I can't breathe and feel sick."

"That's when you rub your neck."

"Probably."

"You need to see someone, CJ. I don't mind being your punching bag, but people will start to talk. It's going to be hard enough to explain this black eye."

She lightly traced the outline of the damage. "You can always tell them I'm frisky."

"I'm sure Leo would be thrilled by that. I'm serious, CJ. I'm so terrified that you're going to shatter into pieces so tiny, we won't be able to glue you back together."

His eyes scared her, making her wonder just how close to the edge she was. And why hadn't she noticed? Was he the only thing keeping her from taking the plunge? She'd gone awfully close tonight, but he'd been there to pull her back. What if he wasn't there next time? Would there be anyone to catch her if she fell? He'd replied to the mayday she hadn't even known she'd transmitted. How could she just turn him away and make him watch her crash and burn? She couldn't do that, not to him.

Biting her lip, her hand automatically reached for her neck. She stopped it and just stared at this appendage with a mind of its own. She clenched it into a fist, reasserting her control. A mixture of sigh and sob heaved through her chest. It was time to retake the wheel.

"You know, you can be really sweet sometimes. I'll find out from Josh about his therapist." She saw doubt flicker across his face. It was now her turn to assure him. She stroked her palms across his cheeks. "I promise you. I need to find Claudia Jean again."

He nodded. "Good. I've missed her."

She kissed him chastely on the lips. "Thank you for answering."

"Always." He reciprocated.

She stood and offered her hand. This time he took it. She suddenly felt shy and awkward, the way-too-tall girl trying to hide in the corner. "Well, it's late. Better get going."

"Yeah. Good night."

Their hands were still joined. She reluctantly let go and turned to leave. One step, two steps, stop, turn back.

"Danny."

"Yeah?"

"I...I...would you...." Ah, yes. She was a fabulous communicator. Just say it quickly so you don't chicken out. "Please come home with me."

Danny did a double-take. "Are you sure?"

"You understand, there won't be any sex. I...I don't want to be alone tonight. I want--I need someone to hold me. I want that someone to be you."

"Of course I will," he replied quietly. He looked as surprised as she felt. "Just let me get my things."

She watched as he walked to the back of the room, before refocusing her attention on the podium. One year. A complete cycle, starting and ending here. And another one starting, same spot.

"Don't worry. You won't be here this time next year." He didn't touch her, just standing close enough so she could feel his presence.

"You a mind reader now?"

"And a fortune teller. I predict that on this night next year you will be dining with a handsome red-headed reporter in an expensive D.C. restaurant. In fact, I'm so certain of it, make a note in your diary."

"So, I'm going to meet a handsome red-headed reporter in the next year?" She smiled. "A date?"

"No, a business dinner. Bring your notebook."

"Make sure you remind me," she laughed. "Let's go. Just need to stop by my office."

They headed towards the door.

"Separate cars?"

"We'll take mine. You shouldn't be driving with that eye."

"I normally drive with my hands. What about your hand?"

"I can move it." She demonstrated with some pain. "Okay, not that well. But your eye will probably be swollen shut by tomorrow. You're not driving then."

"You can always sit on my lap. Then we'll have three eyes and three hands."

She elbowed him into the door frame. "And five legs?"

"There you go again. Damaging me. And I must say, you have a filthy mind, Ms. Cregg."

"Can it, Fishboy. You need to be put on ice."


End file.
